Starving for Control
by fuzzyfishbowl
Summary: Manny developes anorexia. The final part is up.
1. Default Chapter

In this story, Manny developes anorexia. That's all I'm gonna say.  
BTW: I do not own Degrassi or any of the charactors, this story is made  
up. Here goes:  
  
Part One:  
"Manualla?"  
Great. Father was home. Why can't he just leave me alone? Next thing  
he'll be doing is knocking on my door, and-  
(Knock knock). "Manualla?" He came in without even asking if it was  
okay, as usual. God, he thinks it's his right to barge in on me. What   
if I'd been naked or something?  
I turn on my fake smile. "Hello, Father."  
He didn't ask me how my day was. He didn't even say "hello". He said  
his usual line: "Do you have your homework done yet?"  
I cringe. Urg. This was what I'd been dreading. He hates it when I  
don't have my homework done when he gets home. Mom had been gone when  
I'd come home, so I'd spent some time on the Internet. So I didn't have  
my stupid homework done.  
"I've been working on it all afternoon, Father," I lie. "But I just   
have to-"  
"Manualla," Father said sternly. "You know what we talked about. I ex-  
pect you to get your homework done every day before dinner."  
"I know, Father, but-"  
"No excuses, young lady." He sighed. "Well, dinner is ready. Eat, then  
get right back to work."  
"Yes, sir," I mumbled, and followed him out of the room.  
Why was he being like this? All that year, he'd become so...  
controlling. I had to show him my homework every day, I could only   
watch TV for a half hour every night, and I couldn't date. When I'd   
gone on the date with Craig, I'd lied and said I was spending the night  
at Emma's. Only after calling Ms. Nelson and talking her ear off for an  
hour did he allow me to go. And he would have killed me if he found out  
about the dance Emma and I crashed.  
He'd always been so fun before this year. He would take me out to ice  
cream instead of making me do my homework...perfectly. Nothing is diff-  
erent in his life to make him act this way, and I've done nothing to  
make him not trust me.  
We make it to the dinner table. Mama has set the table, and we sit   
down to a quiet dinner. I remembered the old days, when we'd all talk  
and laugh the whole time. Now...it's horrible.  
I wonder if Mama and Father are having problems. They never fight, and  
they always have their "private time" in the parlor in the evening just  
like before. Mama won't talk to me about it...in fact, she won't talk  
to me about anything, about Father's controlling behavior or anything.  
Not that it was too weird, not as weird as how Father was acting: I've   
never been very close to Mama, anyway.  
Mama was serving her specialty, echiladas. There were refried beans   
and rice on the side. Usually, I dig into this kind of meal: it's my  
favorite. But tonight, I noticed my parents as they ate. My mother ate  
tiny, careful bites, while my father dug in like I usually do. I was  
disgusted by it, the way that he bent close to his plate and shoveled  
the food into his mouth. Does he even have time to taste it? I hope I   
don't eat like that!  
I was hit with a sudden thought: they don't even notice me! They   
didn't even notice that I wasn't eatting. So I stood up. "I think I'll   
eat a little later. I should really finish my homework."  
They looked up. Father seemed to approve: I guess "family time" isn't  
very important to him. Mama offered to put the plate in the fridge for  
me, but I said I would and went into the kitchen. I carefully scraped   
my dinner in the garbage and covered it with over garbage so they   
wouldn't notice. Then I went upstairs in triumph.  
Fahter could control my curfew, and when I do my homework. But he   
couldn't do anything about my eatting!  
Please read and review. Thanks. 


	2. Chapter 2

Thanx for all the reviews! Here's part two:  
  
Part Two:  
I went to school the next morning with an empty stomach. But the hunger  
pangs felt so good, because I'd been the one to cause them, not Father   
or anyone eles.  
I always have to lie to Father so I can go to school early. I tell him  
I'm working on extra credit/helping out in the M.I. lab/blah blah blah.  
The truth is, I have Spirit Squad practice. And, of course, if Father  
found out I was a cheerleader...that'd be the end of that.  
Paige has been so nice to me since I made the squad. She's forgotten  
all about the paper incident with Emma's article. Hazel is still a little  
rude to me, but there's nothing she can do with Paige around.  
The big basketball game is coming up: Degrassi v.s. North East Toronto.  
Paige has been working us on new cheers all week. One involves all the  
girls lifting ME in the air. That's right, I'm the star!  
But today, when I was in the air, someone dropped me and everyone   
toppled to the ground. It had been Hazel. She blamed it on me: "God,   
girl, have you put on some weight or something?"  
Like I needed to hear that. No lunch for me, I guess.  
Of course, Emma asked why I didn't eat anything and just sipped on a   
can of Diet Coke. I love her, and she's been my best friend forever...  
but can't she mind her own damn business? There she was, stuffing her-  
self with some great lunch that Mr. Simpson (her stepdad) or her mom   
had made for her, without a care in the world. She doesn't have to worry  
about her weight: she doesn't have big fat chipmunk cheeks. Hazel wouldn't  
have dropped her.  
"You better not be on a diet," Emma said. That made me mad. "So what if  
I was?"  
"Manny! Diets are, like, so dangerous! You know what happened to Toby.  
Besides, the standards of beauty that society sets for teenage girls is  
so inane, and-"  
"Em, I was just joking!" I lie. "I'm not on a diet. I'm just not feeling  
good." God, did she ever shut up?  
I had that. School is supposed to be an escape from the pressures and  
rules of your family. But when your best friend is so opinionated, it's  
almost as bad. I hate when she tries to preach to me: it reminds me of  
Father.   
Nobody thinks I can take care of myself. Well, I'd show them...I'd show  
all of them what I could do. The start of that would, of course, be to  
become thin.  
I stared as Emma's lunch. Peanut butter and jelly. No lunch meat for   
the vegatarian. Three deviled eggs. A bag of potatoe chips. Two big   
chocolate chip cookies. A can of tropical punch.  
I sipped my Diet Coke some more. Control. That's all it would take. My  
control, nobody eles'. Not Father's and not Emma's.  
This was mine.  
  
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	3. Part 3

Part Three:  
That night, I made another excuse not to eat dinner. "I have to work  
on some extra credit. I want to bring my math grade up to a 97." Father  
seemed to buy it, and so I was off the hook for another night.  
Later, I managed to sneak a couple of apples. That was all I ate that   
day.   
At Spirit Squad practice the next morning, Hazel didn't drop me. I must  
be improving, I thought. I'd only eatten an orange that morning.  
At lunch, Emma had another on of her "diets are sooooo dangerous"   
lectures. "Em!" I said, half-laughing. "I'm not on a diet! Mama made her  
churros for breakfast today, and...I had, like five."  
"Oh." Yeah, take that. Mama hadn't made churros in a year, at least.  
I didn't eat for the rest of the day. I was in luck at dinner: Father  
and Mama decided to go out to dinner together. For the first time in, like,  
a century.  
"Make sure you get all your homework done, Manualla," Father said, of  
course. "Mama left some leftovers in the refridgerator for you."  
Five minutes after they left, the sliced-up leftovers were swirling   
down the toilet. It was the only way to get rid of them.  
But when I was on my computer later, I felt filled with this urge to  
eat. And eat and eat and eat.  
And I did. Oh, God, I ate. I ate all the cookies, the rest of the left-  
overs, a made up a pot of rice. Urg, I had the biggest stomach ache when  
I was done.  
So I sat in the kitchen, feeling ashamed. My stomach was gurgling, and  
I knew that I'd just done something bad. So I did the only think I could  
think of: I went to the bathroom and threw up.  
Instant relief flew over me once I'd gotten it all out. I was disgusting  
and I swore to myself never to do it again, but it had been worth it.  
  
Sorry so short, I'll make the next one longer! 


	4. Part 4

Part Four:  
Father was beginning to notice that I wasn't eatting dinner with him and  
Mama anymore. So one morning, he said, "Well, Manualla, I hope you'll  
be ready to join us for dinner tonight." Crap crap CRAP! What was I going  
to do?  
I couldn't eat lunch with Emma that day, either: she'd really been getting  
on my case about not eatting. Instead, I spent my lunch by myself in the  
M.I. lab. Mr. Simpson wasn't around. I was all alone there.  
So I logged onto the Internet and went to yahoo.com. I remembered an   
article in a teen magazine I'd read about pro-ana websites. I decided to  
find some: maybe they could help me.  
I found a great one called "Ana's World". I read some of the tips, in-  
cluding some good ones on how to avoid eatting dinner when you're forced  
to. I decided to try spitting my bites into my drink and dropping them   
into a napkin on my lap.  
Dinner that night was nerve-racking. I felt like Father and Mama were  
watching me. They weren't, of course: Mama was too busy eatting "dantily"   
and Father was too busy stuffing his face. They didn't know that most of  
my meal hadn't ended up in my mouth: most of it was floating around in  
my cup, some was sitting, squished into the napkin on my lap.  
I used this plan everytime Father forced me to eat dinner with them.   
Most of the time, I managed to make up an excuse.  
As for lunch, Emma was getting sick of sitting with just J.T. and Toby.  
She found me one day in the computer lab. Luckily, I hadn't been looking  
at the "pro-ana" sites that day: I'd just been looking for info for my  
English report.  
"Manny, what's your problem?" she demanded. I gave her an innocent look.  
"What? I didn't do anything, Em."  
"You haven't eatten lunch with us for over a week! What've you been   
doing?"  
"I have a lot of homework, and-"  
"That's a lie. We have all the same classes."  
I was stuck. It wasn't as easy lying to my best friend as it was to my  
parents. so I sighed. "Em, there's just a lot going on right now. I need  
some time to myself, okay?"  
She took this the wrong way...or the right way, I don't know what my goal  
was. But she said, "Fine, take all the time you need!" and stormed out.  
That afternoon in English, I saw her talking to Ms. Kwan. When she was,  
she glanced over at me. Uh, oh, what is she saying?!  
But Ms. Kwan didn't say anything to me. Huh, guess she just wanted to   
stare me down?  
We went to work on our reports, which were due in a week. They were about  
issues affecting teens. I'd decided to do mine about violence in schools.  
Emma was doing hers on perscription drug abuse (so I thought). She didn't  
work with me at all that day: she sat by herself, while J.T. and Toby   
told me that they were "on my side". "Emma always takes things too far,"  
J.T. said.  
"I didn't even realize we were fighting," I said, causing the boys to  
laugh. Emma shot me a dirty look and went back to work.  
So I was fighting with my best friend. So what? At least I didn't have  
to eat.  
  
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	5. Part 5

Part Five:  
Instead of eatting lunch with Emma, I continued to hide out in the M.I.  
lab or the library. One day, I was looking at books when I saw one that  
looked interesting: "Wasted", by Marya Hornbacher. When I read that it  
was about eatting disorders, I checked it out and got to reading. I soon  
proclaimed it "my Bible".  
After a few days, I was surprised when I came home after school and Mama  
was waiting. "Hi, Sweetie. How was school?" I nearly had a heart attack:  
I barely heard my mother talk, much less to me!  
"Um, it was okay, Mama," I said, starting to leave the kitchen to my  
room.  
"Hold on a sec, Manny. Let's talk." Oh, no! Had she noticed something?  
I sat down hesitantly, and Mama smiled. "I know that we haven't been   
talking much lately. But there's something I've been noticing."  
Uh, oh. Here goes...  
"I know that Father's been more...protective lately," she said slowly.  
"And I know that you're probably really confused."  
"Mama..." I was so relieved. I nodded. "Yeah. I have been."  
"Oh, Sweetie," she sighed, touching my hand. "Your father is just scared  
that his baby girl is growing up too fast. You're his only child, you  
know, and he's afraid of losing you. I know," she said with a small smile,  
"We know that's ridiculous, and I think we should talk to him. We'll see  
about raising your curfew, and getting rid of the "homework before dinner"  
and "half hour of TV" rule...maybe even the dating rule," Mama said with  
a wink.  
I was so happy! I was finally connecting with my mom. I hugged her and  
she said, "Would you like some cookies, Manny. I just baked some."  
I had noticed the smell. And since I was so happy, I forgot about my  
eatting for awhile and had a couple.  
Of course, I threw them up later.  
I was excited about talking to Father that night, but he never came home.  
He called Mama and told her that he had a lot of work to do, so he wouldn't  
be home until midnight, at least. Mama just ordered a pizza ("Don't tell  
your father," she said with a wink), and I pretended to eat some of it  
in my room.  
So, nothing really changed at home. But I didn't have to do my homework   
(I didn't really feel like it), so I spent the evening reading "Wasted".  
I was fascinated by the part when the author goes to boarding school,   
and is free to starve herself as much as she wanted. That would be so  
cool, I thought.  
Yeah, starving yourself is real cool. Not. You'll see how far it got me...  
later on.  
  
Please read and review, thanks! 


	6. Part 6

*I made a mistake! In my last part, I put that Manny was an only child.  
Not true: she has an older brother. She mentions him in "Family Politics".  
So let me change the line that her mom says: "You're his (her father's)  
only daughter." I'll just have the brother be in college. There. I feel  
better, and on with the story!:  
  
Part Six:  
The day the reports in English were due, I was really nervous. But it  
wouldn't be a big deal: I wouldn't have to present mine until the next  
day.  
Emma was up first. She cleared her throat, glared at me, and began:  
"My report is about eatting disorders, which inflict nearly 11 million of  
Canada's citizens. Ninety percent of those are female, and 45 percent of  
them are between the ages of 14 and 19."  
I was mortified. How could she do a report like that? How could she  
be practically telling the whole class that I had an eatting disorder?  
I didn't! And eveyone was staring at me. I hated her, with a boiling  
anger.  
After class, I approached her in the hall. "What was up with that?" I  
demanded.  
"What?" she said, trying to play innocent.  
"Don't play that, Emma Nelson!" I exclaimed. "Everyone knows that you  
changed your topic, and they know that we're fighting. Why do you want  
everyone to think I have an eatting disorder?"  
"Because you do!" she shrieked. People were staring, but of course she  
wasn't thinking about my feelings. "Look at yourself! You've probably lost  
at least ten pounds in three weeks! Your clothes are baggy, you look like  
shit!" With that, she stomped away. I wanted to cry.  
I was thankful when Paige and Hazel came up to me. Paige was kind: "I  
just saw what happened, Manny. Don't worry, she's just jealous that you're  
popular and she's just a stupid little tree hugger." She gave Hazel a look,  
and Hazel sighed and said, "Why don't you sit at our table at lunch now?"  
I could tell it was hard for her to do.   
I saw Emma staring at us from down the hall. I nodded, and shot her a   
dirty look. She walked away.  
Paige and Hazel didn't even notice that I didn't eat. They didn't eat  
much themselves: they both had salads, and nibbled at the carrots. The  
boys were wolfing down their food, it reminded me of my dad.  
I kept looking over at Emma during lunch. About halfway into the lunch  
period, she was gone.  
I went home that day, and was surprised to see Father already home. "Oh,  
hi," I said, starting to my room.  
"Manualla, sit down," he said sternly. Oh, no, what was going on? Did he  
find out about my talk with Mama or something? I sat. "I recieved a call  
from the school today," Father said. "The principal, Mr. Raditch, says  
you haven't been eatting lunch. Is this true?" A pause. "Well?"  
I nodded. "Manualla," Father said, "Why?"  
I was so angry. At him, and at Emma. I stood up. "Because I don't have  
to, that's why!"  
"Young lady, do not raise your voice to me," he said in his dangerous  
voice. If I were ten, I would've pissed my pants. But I was older now,  
and I had to take control of my life.  
"You don't let me do anything!" I yelled. "You didn't let me go to the  
school dance last year! Well guess what? Emma and I crashed a dance this  
year."  
"Manualla-"  
"And I also went on a date. A DATE. With an older boy! How's that? I don't  
care that I have an arranged marriage! And I went to a party last summer,  
and a girl took drugs there."  
"Go to your room, Manualla," Father said in his most dangerous voice. "We  
will talk about this later."  
"NO!" I said. "We won't talk about it. I'm leaving."  
"MANUALLA!" Before he could stop me, I was out the door.  
But where would I go?  
  
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	7. Part 7

Part Seven:  
I ended up going to the mall and wandering around on my own. I window-  
shopped, but didn't really go into any stores: I didn't have any money,  
and I didn't want to deal with annoying sales-women.  
"Manny!" I heard someone say. I turned around, and nearly had a heart-  
attack. There was Sean...and CRAIG! The guy I'd messed up with. I'd been  
so immature on our date, and now he barely spoke to me. But I smiled and   
went over to them. "Hi, Sean. Hi, Craig," I said, trying to be cool.  
"You're here on your own?" Sean asked. "Where's Emma?" He was still in-  
terested in her. I politely explained that Emma and I weren't talking right  
then.   
"You wanna hang out with us, then?" Craig asked. "We were just about to  
get something to eat." He wanted me to hang out with him? (and Sean, but  
whatever). I shrugged. "Sure, but I already ate at home."  
"That's cool," Craig said. "Just get a drink or something."  
"Flat broke," I said, smiling again. I'm very proud of my smile: it's the  
only part of myself that I'm not ashamed of. It draws attention away from  
my fat cheeks.  
"No problem, I've got it," Craig said with his nice smile. *Sigh* He   
laughed. "I have to pay for Sean's dinner, anyway!"  
"Hey, I paid for yours last time," Sean growled. I knew he was embarressed,  
since he was poor.  
"Yeah, yeah, details," Craig said.  
So we hung out. And then Sean said, "I gotta go, you guys. Tracker wanted  
me to come home early and work on a bike with him." He smiled a little.  
"It might be my bike, when I'm old enough."  
I was alone with Craig. "I better go, too..."  
"No, wait," Craig said. "Hang out for awhile."  
Well, I didn't really want to go home, because I knew that Father was  
waiting to yell at me again. Maybe me and Craig can work things out! I  
thought. "Sure," I said. "No problem."  
We walked around, and he said, "Sean told me about Emma's report." I wanted  
to die: Did he know that she'd written it for me? I hated Emma, and Sean,  
right then. "Manny, I talked to her the other day, after I got home from  
work." I remembered that Emma babysat Angela now, since I had to go home  
right away. "She's worried about you, you know?"  
"Why?" I demanded harshly. I was almost shaking with rage.  
"Manny, you were small as it is," Craig said. "But lately...you look like  
you were in a concentration camp for a few weeks, you know?"  
Why did he keep saying "you know"? I didn't know. But I didn't say anything,  
and he continued: "I understand what's going on, Manny. Emma told me how  
your dad is controlling. My dad was that way too, and he beat me up, too.  
But you can't take it out on yourself."  
"What am I supposed to do, Craig?" I could feel my eyes welling with tears.  
"She has no business talking about my personal life. And it's not all his  
fault. She's part of it. She tries to control me, too." I turned around.  
"And she's wrong. There's nothing wrong with me. She's the one with the  
problem. She's jealous." And I left.  
I walked around Toronto until late that night. I was sure that the police  
would come and find me. At one, I snuck into my room. My parents weren't   
awake. But I would have to face them in the morning.  
What was I going to do?  
  
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	8. Part 8

Part Eight:  
But Father and Mama didn't say anything to me the next day. Huh. I was  
very confused, and freaking out.  
At school the next day, I hung out with Paige and Hazel. They took my  
mind off my problems with the upcoming game. The last game of the season  
was that afternoon. I'd lied to my father a few days before and told him  
I had to stay afterschool to help my French teacher with something.  
"I can't wait to try out the new cheers," Paige gushed. "I think we  
really have them down. Manny, you think you're ready to do your big  
cheer again."  
"Yeah," I said. I remembered the last game we'd done it at. I was so  
happy, with everyone cheering as the rest of the Spirit Squad held me up.  
Now, I was about seven pounds lighter then at that game two weeks before.  
I was definately ready.  
"I spoke to Mr. Raditch to let us all out of our last classes early,"   
Paige went on. "For our, um, special preperations. We'll just work on our  
hair and nails." The three of us laughed.  
I didn't talk to Emma all day. I hung out with J.T. and Toby, who told  
me how miserable they'd been at lunch with Emma. "She's in this rage all  
the time," Toby said.  
"Let us sit with you!" J.T. suggested. "I can eat lunch with Paige..." Oh,  
God, wasn't he over her yet? But then again, he and Spinner HAD kicked Dean's  
ass. Maybe she wouldn't mind...then Emma would be all alone!  
At lunch, I didn't ask Paige to let J.T. and Toby sit with us. She asked  
me, as soon as I sat down, "Did Emma get you in trouble or something?"  
"Huh?"  
"I heard that Emma told Raditch something about you...like, you weren't  
eatting or something. It's going around the whole school. Everyone is, like,  
so mad at her."  
"Really?" I smiled. "Yeah, my parents were up my ass about it."  
"Come on." She, Hazel, and I got up. Paige led us over to where Emma sat  
by herself (who knows where Toby and J.T. went off to). "So, tree hugger,"  
she said. "We hear that you're talking crap about Manny."  
"Why did you tell Mr. Raditch that I wasn't eatting lunch?" I demanded.  
"That was so not cool."  
"Yeah, like starving yourself is!" Emma exclaimed.  
"Oh, shut up, Emma," I said. "Like I said, you're just jealous that I'm  
popular and you have no friends because of your BIG FAT MOUTH."  
Emma stood up. "Don't expect me to go to your funeral." And she left.  
Paige seemed satisfied that we'd told one of her least favorite people  
off, and we sat back down.  
"Don't expect me to go to your funeral." That's what someone said in  
"Wasted": the girl's friend at boarding school said it. And she'd been  
right. Was Emma?  
No, I thought quickly. I'm finally freeing myself of her. She can't control  
me anymore.  
I basically figured that our friendship was over.  
  
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	9. Part 9

Part Nine:  
The Spirit Squad got out of their classes early to "get ready" for the  
game. When no one was looking, I threw up. Even though I hadn't eatten  
since yesterday morning, it made me feel better.  
I was dizzy as I jumped up and down, doing the cheers. Everyone was happy:  
the Panthers were winning, 32-24 by the half-time. "Now's our chance!"   
Hazel said excitedly.  
"We can't mess up," Paige said. She motioned towards the other team's   
cheerleading squad. "We're gonna prove we're better."  
We went out to the middle of the floor when the players went off for a   
break. We formed our pyramid, me on the top as usual. I kicked my leg high  
in the air and prepared to yell "GO DEGRASSI!"...but everything went black.  
I woke up in a hospital room. I'd fallen backwards off the pyramid, I  
later found out. No mats to catch me, and no one caught me before I fell.  
I'd suffered an awful concussion, too.  
The room was empty, but a nurse came in a few minutes later. "Oh, you're  
awake," she said.  
"Ooh, my head," I moaned. A doctor came in and examined me. "Okay, Miss  
Santos. How long has it been since you've eatten."  
Oh, no. "This afternoon, I guess." He didn't believe me. "According to  
your charts, you weighed 107 the last time you went to the doctor. How  
much do you weigh now?"  
"Dunno," I lied, like I hadn't been obsessively weighing myself for the  
past month. "Same?"  
The doctor cocked an eyebrow. "You look at least fifteen pounds lighter  
to me." He was about right: I weighed about 89 pounds. "We'll take care  
of weighing you later. Your family is here to see you now."  
My parents came in. They both hugged me, and Father was actually crying.  
"Manualla, what is going on with you? Why did this happen?"  
"I wasn't careful enough," I lied. "When I did the stunt, I fell and hit  
my head." I didn't say that I'd blacked out before I fell. They don't have  
to know that, I thought.  
The doctor said that I should stay the night. After I slept, I woke up  
the next day.  
I was weighed. I now weighed 87 pounds, twenty pounds less then my charts  
read. "Well, Miss Santos, you do realize that you are very underweight,  
correct?" the doctor said. I didn't say anything. What could I say? "You're  
also dhydrated and starving," he said. "It looks like you should be ad-  
mitted to a-"  
"No!" I cried. "Doctor, please! I've just been working out more lately.  
I've been really busy! There's nothing wrong with me, really!"  
My parents must have objected to me being placed in a hospital, because  
I got to go home later that day. My running away or the fall wasn't mention:  
Father just said he hoped I could get caught up in school.  
The next day, I was approached by the Spirit Squad, Paige in the lead.  
"Manny, what you did was really dangerous," she said. "I have no choice  
but to suspend you from the squad." I saw Hazel grin.  
"For how long?" I demanded. What was I going to do now?  
"Until you gain some weight!" And with that, they walked away. I was all  
alone now.  
Emma came up to me. "I heard what happened at the game, Manny..."  
"Yeah? Well, it was just a bad stunt, that's all." I turned to walk away,  
but she stopped me.  
"Everyone saw what happened. They're saying that...that you blacked out  
before you fell. It's true, isn't it."  
"It's not your business, Emma, okay?" And I walked away then.  
  
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	10. The End: Part 10

Part Ten:  
That day, I felt like a freak. Everyone was staring and whispering about  
me. At lunch, I had to hide out in the library just like before.   
I was surprised when J.T. found me. Toby wasn't with him: he was alone.  
"Hey, Manny," he said. He was real casual about it, and I was relieved.  
But then he started to talk about what happened. "I wasn't at the game, but...  
well, I heard what happened."  
"I don't want to talk about it," I said quickly. "It's so humiliating. The  
Spirit Squad suspended me, and everyone's talking about it."  
"Manny?" he said carefully. "What really happened out there?" I had never  
seen this side to J.T. Yorke before: he was being so mature.  
But I couldn't tell him. I just shook my head. He said, "Everyone knows,  
Manny."  
I felt the tears fill my eyes once again. "J.T., I don't know what to do.  
It's just..." Now that I wanted to talk, I didn't know what to say. I just  
started to cry. J.T. hugged me: he's such a good friend.  
After lunch, I went to the nurse and said I felt sick. She took my temp:  
"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed. "94.7. That's much too low." She called  
my parents.  
I expected Mama to pick me up, but it was Father who came instead. He  
led me out to the car in silence, and for the first few minutes of our ride  
home, I contemplated telling him.  
I realized what had happened: I'd wanted control. I'd wanted to have control  
of my life. But now everything was out of control. I was suspended from the  
Spirit Squad, and what little trust my parents had in me was gone.  
I found myself spilling the whole story to Father. He stared straight ahead  
as he listened. Does he understand? I thought.  
When we got home, Father looked at me and hugged me. "You're not my little  
girl anymore," he realized. "Your mother and I have been talking. We're going  
to make some changes."  
"Really?"  
"But," he said. "You must have your homework done every night by nine. Is  
that clear?"  
I sighed in relief. "Yes, Father." No problem, I thought.  
"Now," he said. "About this dating..."  
"It's not a big deal, Father," I insisted. "It's not like I've ever kissed  
a boy or-"  
"Okay, okay," Father said quickly, turning red. The topic embarressed him.  
"Well, you are in high school now. You may date."  
I had to keep from squealing. I was feeling better already.  
Then Father sighed. "We must do something about this eatting..."  
I nodded. "You know, it's so ironic: I wanted to have control, but now  
everything feels out of control. You know?"  
He knew. And things were starting to feel like the old days again.  
Over the next couple of months, I gained the freedom I'd really wanted.  
After awhile, my eatting went back to normal, though Father insisted that  
I see a nutrionist every week. I didn't mind.  
When Paige saw that I was doing better, she let me back on the Spirit Squad.  
I didn't even have to lie to Father about practices anymore.  
I also gained more respect from Emma. Sadly, I knew that the rift in our  
friendship would never heal. But J.T. and I were now closer then ever, and  
I wonder if it could develope into something more...  
All in all, everything in my life was going great...  
I finally had my control.  
  
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